Foundation and Robots
by Walshicus
Summary: The Duchess of Liracon recruits trader Paitur Inthus in her quest to reclaim the lost knowledge of Robotics
1. Prologue

Foundation and Robots  
  
Prologue  
  
This story is set nearly 450 years after Hari Seldon established the First Foundation on Terminus. At this point, the Foundation Federation directly controls 1/3rd of the inhabited galaxy, and is the sole super power. Many of the barbarian kingdoms and republics vie for favour with it, though all try to avoid becoming vassal states.  
  
The First Galactic Empire has lain in ruins for 200 years, but many aspects of its 20,000-year history live on. However Trantor, the old Imperial capital has been virtually destroyed by warfare and it's heavily reduced population eke out meagre livings.  
  
The Duchy of Liracon is a small world lying on the outskirts of the Perseus arm of the galaxy (At a 90 degree angle from the core to the Major arm, in which Terminus is located). The Grand Duchess Armandai, who despite the hereditary implication of the title is an elected figure, governs Liracon. Liracon is mostly populated by a small proportion of the 500 billion refugees who fled the destruction of Trantor.  
  
Paitur Inthus is a middle age former Trader Captain who specialised in obtaining antiques dating to the dark ages of humanities history. He owns a sizable estate on one of Liracon's larger islands. His wife Lerin is a lawyer employed in the Duchess' Council. Their teenage daughter Okita is an aspiring composer and is involved with Deru Feliquay, the son of their island's governing Baron.  
  
Whilst Robots were abandoned in antiquity, Paitur is recruited by the Duchess Armandai to help acquire pieces of one. Her aim being that they might be built once again. There are parties however, that would wish to impede him. 


	2. Fields Of Yakira

Fields of Yakira  
  
"I have roamed the decaying remnants of the city-world Trantor. I have sailed across the violet oceans of Rhyai on a vessel as old and opulent as the First Galactic Empire; and I have marvelled at the technological wonders of Terminus. Why is it then, that the sight of this field, golden with Yakira and Lyplant, I would instantly deem a superior experience?"  
  
Paitur Inthus reclined himself against the wooden fence that both defined and divided his estate. The green sun gave an emerald sheen to his silver hair and rugged earthy clothing. His daughter Okita, with her slender figure and light olive skin, lay upon a red silk blanket spread out on the fine ruddy sands. She was in deep concentration, reading from an electronic pad.  
  
"I would say it is because you have achieved this particular miracle with your own hard labour." Her voice was soft and melodious. Paitur rubbed the stubble on his face, pondering what his daughter had said. Okita raised her head to look at him and smiled a row of brilliantly white teeth.  
  
"But it was not difficult, and I did little work manually. The field robots achieved most, with me merely their instructor," said Paitur. Okita reached into the wicker basket next to her, and retrieved a small blue fruit. She gently threw it to her father, who caught it in his right hand. He bit into the fruit and drank the viscous fluid within.  
  
"Maybe it is more simple even than pride. You were born on Comporelleon, father, a world infamous for the harsh tundra that engulfs it. This farm is something that was impossible for you to experience for the entirety of your early life. And of all the other worlds I have heard you speak of in the tales you tell of your travels, none are used for agriculture. Trantor is a dead metallic monstrosity, Rhyai covered in ocean, and Terminus a thousands of oases of suburban civilisation in an untamed jungle." She paused and lifted herself from the blanket. Moving to her father, she too reclined against the fence. "It is because you have never seen nature tamed in a way that benefits humanity and nature equally. That is why Liracon and more specifically our estate amaze you." She answered. Paitur smiled back at her, and looked to the sky. The sun was high, and Liracon's rings brightly visible.  
  
"So tell me, what about you? Does this not amaze you also?" he asked sullenly. Okita looked out to the fields, as if trying to see them through her father's eyes.  
  
"I was born here," she replied flatly, "I am used to it". Paitur frowned at her and sighed. She giggled softly and hugged him.  
  
"You have become quite the provincial country man, father. And to think you once swashbuckled your way through the galaxy," At this, Paitur raised an eyebrow.  
  
"I traded and bartered my way through the galaxy, darling. There really was very little swashbuckling involved. And what do you mean 'provincial'? I am a man of the galaxy, I will have you know," he said, sweeping a rogue strand of hair from her face.  
  
"Mother told me about you once being a smuggler. It is just a shame that you lack an eye patch, as that would be the final proof required by my theory. And you are most certainly a provincial. Today is the first time in half a year that we have even talked about the universe away from Liracon," she said.  
  
"Well, maybe I am a provincial. And by smuggler your mother is referring to an incident in which I delivered pharmaceuticals to some barbarian world whose government prohibited them. It was a mission of mercy more than anything. So what is this theory of yours?" he asked.  
  
"You wish to know my theory? Oh, it is just a general suspicion that you are in fact the legendary 'Maroon Marauder', Master Pirate. It fits all available facts, really," said Okita in an entirely too convinced tone.  
  
"The Maroon Marauder predates even Trantor. It is a myth, like the Spacers, Aurora and Earth," he said.  
  
Okita removed a pair of glasses from the top pocket of her shirt and wore them. She raised an eyebrow and looked down from her nose to him.  
  
"Actually, my dearest father, the Maroon Marauder has an abundance of evidence to support his existence. Quite unlike Earth and Aurora in that regard," she said, giving her best impression of an intellectual.  
  
"Well, how can you explain that I would need to be over twenty-thousand years of age, assuming he existed?" he replied.  
  
"And you do not look a day over fifteen-thousand!" Okita could stop herself no longer, and she burst into laughter. Paitur shook his head.  
  
"Tell me, who did you inherit your sense of humour from? I certainly hope it was not -" he was interrupted by the growing sound of an approaching anti-gravity engine. "I guess that will be your handsome prince with his latest toy," he continued sardonically. This time it was Okita who frowned.  
  
"He is a baron, not a prince. At least he will be one day. Please, just be civil to him," she pleaded.  
  
"I will make no promises," he muttered. 


	3. Her Word

Her Word  
  
Anti-gravity generation was one of many technologies developed in the twilight years of the Empire. Imperial physicists hoped it would revolutionise intrastellar travel, removing the need for starships to carry massive and cumbersome propellant. However, the Empire fell to ruins before the technology could be perfected. As such the result was a device incapable of handling the sizable masses of even the smallest ships, and only of use on small personal speeders. Naturally these were available only to a wealthy minority.  
  
Deru Feliquay was in possession of such a speeder. It was a gift to him from his selectively generous father, the Baron of Saril. Presently it was at rest outside the front entrance of the Inthus house. Deru deactivated the engine, and walked to the door of the building. He tapped twice on the doorbell. There was no immediate response, so he tried once more. Gradually he noticed activity from the leftmost side of the building.  
  
"Patience boy, patience," said Paitur, his voice muffled through the tall hedges that extended from the building. "Surely your libido could be tamed for the time that I would greet you? I even include the seconds it takes you to arrive in my daughter's bed," he continued humourlessly, emerging from an opening in the hedgerow, and advancing towards Deru. Deru's gaze shifted downwards.  
  
"You mistake my intentions sir," Deru said precisely, lengthening his M's almost excessively. Such was the habit of Liraconian nobility.  
  
"You Liar!" burst Paitur, "Do not take me for a fool, boy. I am not blind to what happens in my estate!" his tone had darkened. Paitur rubbed his fingers firmly against his forehead, seemingly pained. He sighed and flushed. "But she is old enough to make her own choices; yes quite old enough. She is in the garden and you may go to her now."  
  
"You would mistake the meaning of this visit mister, for I have business with you that I must complete before I can indulge myself in the company of your daughter," Deru said quite unabashed. Paitur however, was taken aback. 'For what conceivable purpose could this boy require me?' thought Paitur, at once his mind raced through the limited information he could recall about Deru. He knew he was heir to the Baron of Saril, and that he personally disliked his elitist attitude, but that was the entirety of his knowledge on him. He cursed himself for not taking an interest in his daughter's lover.  
  
A stray thought entered his mind, and instantly his heart sank. He had forgotten just how unusual the social structure of Liracon was. Liraconian law was heavily based on ancient traditions, perhaps to a greater extent than on any of the millions of inhabited worlds. Nobility were required to adhere to strict codes of conduct.  
  
"You need me to allow you to marry her," said Paitur. Deru's eyes widened, and he coughed vigorously.  
  
"No sir!" he spluttered. Relief washed across Paitur's face. Instantly confusion replaced it.  
  
"Well what is it that you want?" He asked impatiently. Deru had recovered, and removed an electronic pad from the inside of his leather speeder jacket.  
  
"Her eminence, the honourable Duchess Armandai has requested an audience with you. To that end she informed my father. Naturally he delegated me the role of official messenger," his voice was tainted with mild irritation for the last point.  
  
"How unusual that she would want to see me," he said. He was obviously quite bemused, to such an extent that he failed to notice Okita strolling beside him. She caught him mildly off guard as she took his right arm in hers.  
  
"Well, are you not going to invite my dearest Deru to stay for lunch, father?" She said sweetly. 


	4. Luncheon

Luncheon  
  
"Yes, whilst I am entirely sure your dearest Deru desires your company in a room other than our kitchen; I shall offer the invitation regardless," said Paitur as he contemplated the wrath of his daughter had he turned Deru away.  
  
"I am entirely unwilling to trouble you for this," Deru said as his eyes turned pleadingly to Okita's broad smile, where he found no salvation. Sighing he continued, "Though if you insist it is no inconvenience, I shall join you for luncheon." Okita released her father's arm and took her lover's hand, as she led him into the building. Turning to see the look of annoyance on her father's face, she mocked him with a frown before ushering Deru forward.  
  
'If only Lerin were here to wait upon that damnable boy,' thought Paitur longingly; but he knew his wife wouldn't be home for another day. Resigned, he strode through the side entrance of the house, and into the kitchen.  
  
He paused briefly to consider the calibre of meal he was to prepare. As much as he disliked Deru, he didn't desire to insult the boy; nor was he willing to waste his finest ingredients. After a moment of contemplation, he concluded that as his daughter and he were going to be consuming the same meal, he might as well opt for an inoffensive salad.  
  
"Will he want wine with it?" he shouted to Okita, and was surprised to see her observing him from the kitchen door. She looked back to the dining room where Deru was seated and nodded to her father, before joining Deru at the table. On the choice of wine, Paitur was in no dilemma. He'd be sunbathing on Comporelleon before he'd open the blue '34 for Deru. No, the red '56 would do nicely, though he doubted the boy would even notice with Okita beside him.  
  
He served the salad, and opened the wine before seating himself. An uneasy silence was punctuated sporadically by brief comments of approval, before Paitur decided to take the initiative.  
  
"I wonder, Deru; do you know the rationale behind the Duchess' request of my presence?" he asked politely. Deru shrugged as he finished sipping from his glass.  
  
"I do not know the particular... details of the situation in which Duchess Armandai has want of your audience," Deru admitted somewhat reservedly. Paitur's interest was piqued.  
  
"Then you know at least the vague reasoning, the outline of the cause?" he queried again. Deru was shifting in his seat uncomfortably; he didn't like to gossip.  
  
"She seems to want your services for an expedition," Deru admitted.  
  
"An expedition? To where?"  
  
"I didn't hear the conversation between her and my father too well sir... Though I am sure a planet named Ilesara, or possibly Iletala, was mentioned. Do you know it?" said Deru. Paitur thought upon the name for a moment, thinking of the possible world's Armandai could have meant.  
  
"No, I don't think I do," Paitur said shaking his head. "I don't think I do..." 


End file.
